Traveling

I like to travel. Traveling is a direct and obvious sign of moving towards something. Traveling away from home involves a certain amount of surrender. Traveling is a reminder that life is dynamic and not something I can control.

I didn’t use to like flying and preferred my travel by car or train. Now that I have given up the illusion that I am in control of my fate when I drive a car, am driven in a car or ride a train, I enjoy trusting the pilot, flight crew and everyone who does their job so that I can get to where I am going.

On this particular trip, I flew to Las Vegas for a work conference. The work my colleagues and I did there moved us deeper into relationship with each other, deeper into trust and understanding and resulted in a new excitement for the work we are doing in community with others. It was a nice surprise to be greeted by our project coach, a quiet introvert, with a hug, and to leave the conference with more hugs. These hugs were initiated by the men whose ideas about public innovation and civic health we came to apply to our work in public broadcasting.

I deeply appreciated the conversation about life and relationships I had with Will, my friend and co-worker. It took place at the hip Voodoo Lounge on the 51st floor of the Rio Hotel where we had a drink and looked at the skyline. I never know when these kinds of conversations are going to happen, the kind that deepen your respect for someone you already know and like and simultaneously create a space of belonging.

After the conference I flew to a city in the Southwest to stay with a friend and her partner. I had not seen this friend in more than two years. We had lost touch for a year or so. I no longer had working email and cell phone numbers for her until she called me this summer. From that reconnection came the idea to visit her after my Vegas trip.

I was standing at the baggage claim area at the airport when from behind I felt arms around my waist. I looked down and saw the deep black smooth hands of my friend clasped around my waist in front of my stomach. Lucy! Her hands were warm and I wrapped mine around hers and smiled. She held me in that position for 30-seconds. Then we faced each other and bear hugged. And then a warm hug for and from her partner.

I am so lucky to like the partners of my friends. On this trip I got to know Ericca much more deeply through discussions with her and Lucy about love, God, sex, relationships, families, work, race, culture, and sexuality.

It rained both days I was there and Lucy was disappointed that we couldn’t walk around more, but I told her that it didn’t matter what we did, I was just happy to be with them. They took me to a Mexican bar/restaurant with great tasting shrimp, chicken and homemade tortillas. Three men there played guitar and sang. Lucy and Ericca are regulars and the woman who served us chatted with them and made me feel welcome.

I saw the middle school where they are teachers and met some of their colleagues. I got to sit in on Lucy’s algebra class and watch her teach. We visited an old church built in the late 1700s and got the giggles in the pews. Lucy and I took two long hikes on the trail where she exercises. During our second hike, Lucy fell behind while she was making a calculation on my cell phone about how fast we were walking. She told me to keep walking at my regular pace. I looked over my shoulder to see her finish her calculation and make strides to catch up. I darted off in a sprint and she chased me until she caught up and then we stood there on the sidewalk laughing, smiling and hugging.

A deeper friendship with Lucy and Ericca is the result of our visit together. This is also what I was moving towards when I visited them. It is not something I could plan. It is a gift.

Now I am traveling towards home. I love returning home. Returning home is also a moving forward.

I don’t know the specifics of what I am moving towards, but I know my home, my town and my relationships there are dynamic. I am grateful for each one of them.